


plague

by soapyconnor



Series: Commissions [4]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 01:16:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16398617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soapyconnor/pseuds/soapyconnor





	plague

            Alastair flinched as a spray of blood hit him in the face. He licked his lips and hacked the blade through the lycanthrope once more, grunting and groaning when he realized his shoes were covered in blood.

            He scraped his shoes against the concrete, before giving up and putting them back on. It would have to do. At this moment in time he couldn’t really be picky about clothing . . .

            He headed back to the clinic, unlocking the gates and locking them back up right afterwards. He headed inside to the very back quarters, and he sat down on the bed, gently placing a hand on the lump. “Hey,” he murmured, running a hand up to touch the warm skin.

            Slowly, the lump rolled over, and he saw Jack’s brown eyes. He smiled at him and asked, “How are you feeling?”

            “Want more sleep,” Jack murmured, the words coming out of his throat strangled and rough.

            “Understand, but I brought you something,” he said softly, helping Jack up into a sitting position.

            “More blood?” Jack frowned down at Alastair’s hands, but he held out his arm nonetheless. “It’s not gonna help me. I’m not like you.”

            “Not yet,” Al murmured. “I just need to find the doctor’s notes. On how he was able to take me to the dream.”

            Jack flinched as Alastair injected him with the blood. “What if it turns me into a monster?” Al leaned Jack back on the bed and looked at his face. The entire right side was useless and was nothing more than just meat and skin. Claws had torn through the man’s face on the first night of the hunt and had left him with some brain damage.

            Alastair’s heart ached just looking at it. “You won’t. This blood is the kind I take. It doesn’t have the illness,” he murmured. “It’ll make you stronger. Heal you.”

            “That’s what the priests said, too,” Jack replied. “And look where that got us. A city full of diseased people and monsters . . .” Jack looked up at him through his eyelashes. “What do you do when you go out?”

            Alastair paused, gently taking the man’s hands in his own. “I rid the town of beasts.”

            “Those beasts used to be our friends. Our loved ones.”

            Alastair pressed his forehead against Jack’s. “I know.”


End file.
